


Fall Into Your Sunlight

by halfsweet



Series: Parallel AU [6]
Category: Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Comfort/Angst, Insecurity, Internal Conflict, M/M, Trust Issues, and don't get me started on people pitting panic vs fob like guys why tf would you fight over this, based off of the apmas bc ive read too many comments saying fob shouldn't even be in the category
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-12-03 20:48:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11540172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfsweet/pseuds/halfsweet
Summary: After overhearing a conversation, Patrick is sucked back into the dark part of his mind that he thought he'd left since the hiatus.





	Fall Into Your Sunlight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [herprettysleeper](https://archiveofourown.org/users/herprettysleeper/gifts).



> because it's her birthday today! Happy birthday!
> 
> inspired by the apmas result earlier (i'm feeling very conflicted about it okay)
> 
> not edited. sorry about that. enjoy!

_“Did you hear? Panic won APMA’s artist of the year!”_

_“Good for them. It’s a shame Fall Out Boy didn’t.”_

_“Why? It’s not like they’ve been doing anything these days.”_

_“You know they’re in the middle of making an album, right? And they even released two new songs already.”_

_“Yeah, but that’s just it. They released songs, but they didn’t do any promotions. They didn’t play any concerts or shows. Everyone’s so quiet.”_

_“That’s because their album’s still incomplete.”_

_“Why can’t they finish the entire album before releasing singles? I’m just saying, this makes them seem like they don’t even care for their fans. It’s two months until September, and they’ve finished like, what, two, three songs?”_

_“You don’t even know how many songs they’ve recorded.”_

_“And look at Panic! They just finished a long tour, and Brendon’s already doing Broadway. He even said he’s going to work on the next album after. Like, he didn’t take a year long break like Fall Out Boy did. So I say Panic deserved that award more than them. Let’s face it. Panic’s big now. Fall Out Boy could break up for all I care, and I bet you that no one would even miss them.”_

_“You know what, Panic wouldn’t be anywhere if it weren’t for Fall Out Boy.”_

_“Hey, wait up! Where are you going?”_

Those were the conversations that he overheard at a small diner he and Brendon went to after his show. Brendon didn’t know about the conversation, wasn’t aware of it even, because he was standing in line to get food for them.

He knows he shouldn’t give it a thought--they’re just someone’s opinions, and they’re entitled to have them anyway--and he also knows that he has come a long way since the pre-hiatus days, but the words just keep bouncing, echoing, repeating in his mind. Dragging him back to the place that he keeps locked since the hiatus.

_“They don’t even care for their fans.”_

_“Fall Out Boy could break up, and no one would care. No one would miss them.”_

He wouldn’t have minded if they were talking about Fall Out Boy’s _music,_ how their sound changes or how they’re just sell-outs now because he’s already used to hearing those kinds of comments that they never faze him anymore, but they were talking about the _whole band._ _His friends._

They were talking about him and Pete and Joe and Andy.

About how they don’t care for the people who have supported them.

How they put everything, their heart and soul and time and sweat into their albums, and get called selfish.

_“No one would care. No one would miss them.”_

The person was right, in a way. No one would care about him. No one would miss him.

Both Pete and Joe are happy with their respective families, Andy with his girlfriend and Crossfit friends. Pete has DCD2 to fall back to. Joe and Andy have their own bands they can continue with.

Soon, everyone would be busy with their own respective projects, and eventually, everyone would lose contact with one another, only knowing and catching up with their lives through the news and gossip blogs.

And Brendon would be even bigger than he is now. He would tour around the world all the time. He would be on Broadway after tours are over. Then he would move on to making new album. It’s an endless cycle.

And he would be there in the background. In the corner. In the shadows of everyone’s lives.

Cease to exist from everyone’s memories.

The mattress under him dips when Brendon settles down behind him, his back against his chest, his tattooed arm draped around him as he presses a light kiss to his shoulder. “Do you want to talk?”

He turns around and buries his face in the crook of his neck, nuzzling for warmth and comfort that comes from the shower gel that Brendon always uses. “No,” comes his muffled voice. “It’s stupid.”

“Can I be the judge of that?”

“No.”

“Why not? I’m full of stupid ideas, so I’d know if something’s stupid when I hear one.”

Patrick scoots closer into him so Brendon can’t see his face. Even though they’ve been together for nearly a decade, he refuses to let Brendon see him at his weakest point, when he’s in his most vulnerable state, where all his darkest thoughts burst out from the safe he keeps locked and secured, filling his mind to the brim until they’re spilling out in the form of tears.

Tears that only Pete had witnessed once before the hiatus.

Tears that he will never let Brendon see. Ever.

He inhales deep, making sure his breathing is steady before answering him. “Your ideas aren’t stupid. If it were, you wouldn’t have won best artist.”

When Brendon shakes with laughter and squeezes him tight, he knows he needs to keep Brendon away from this part of his mind. Brendon is everything positive and happy, the light that always brightens up his life, and if so much as a sliver amount of his dark thoughts manages to slip out, he’ll lose that light. “Aww, babe, you’re really-- wait, is this what this is about?”

He presses his lips into a thin line. Brendon can’t have figured it out already, can he?

“Babe, hey. Is this about the award?”

He looks up at Brendon, who’s crinkling his forehead in worry, and he wonders if Brendon can see right through him. Instead, he rolls his eyes and shoves him away. “I’m not that childish to get upset over an _award,_ what the hell.”

Brendon’s lips curl into a smile, a hand raised in surrender. “I didn’t say anything.”

“Good. Let’s go to sleep.” He’s not in the mood for anything tonight, not even to talk, but just before he closes his eyes, Brendon’s face drops, his expression turning grim.

Brendon lifts himself up onto his elbow, fixing him with a firm stare. “No, we are _talking_ about this. You’re obviously upset over something.”

Sometimes he wishes Brendon wouldn’t know him well enough to read him with just a glance.

“Look, Bren.” He eventually sighs, dropping his gaze to the sheets. “It’s--”

“If I hear you say _‘it’s not you, it’s me’_ or _‘it’s nothing’_ I swear to God I will tickle you. No mercy.”

He cracks a small smile at Brendon’s attempt of a threat. Brendon really is his light, his sun that cheers him up and warms him when it’s raining and hailing, and that just strengthens his resolve to keep him as far away as possible from his thoughts.

“Patrick.”

He bites his quivering lip, feeling a sudden urge to hide himself in shame. Brendon rarely calls him by his name, always _babe_ and _cuddlebug_ and other loving nicknames, but never his name. When he does, it’s usually because of something serious.

Like now.

Brendon sighs, falling back on the bed and caressing his arm in a slow motion. “Patrick, I don’t care if you think it’s stupid or lame or not, but it clearly bothers you. I just don’t like seeing you sad.”

“I’m not sad.” He mumbles and ducks his head, squeezing his eyes shut. He hates the thoughts that came into his mind. He hates that they made him feel insecure. He hates that he let them made him feel that way.

“Do you remember when we first got together?”

A small chuckle escapes him, simultaneously glad and relieved at the change of subject. “Two shy kids who would blush each time they held hands.”

“We’re a fucking awkward mess, that’s for sure.” Brendon huffs out a small laugh and rolls onto his back. Silence falls between them, and he can tell that the atmosphere has changed. When he peeks up from under his lashes, Brendon has a somber and thoughtful expression on his face as he stares up at the ceiling, absent-mindedly tangling their fingers together. “We were young then. I was just a kid, new into the scene, but you’re already making a big name.”

“At one point, I thought you’re going to leave me. I mean, your band’s going bigger than ever, artists were collaborating with you left and right, and you’re producing albums for others, so I figured why would you want me around, right?”

There’s a bitter smile on Brendon’s face, but Patrick keeps quiet still, listening to him until the end.

“To be honest, there was a time when I was just waiting for you to break up with me, especially when, you know, when the band was just me and Spence.” Brendon’s voice falls to a whisper, and he lies on his side again, warm brown eyes gazing into blue ones. “But you stayed by my side the entire time.”

He feels like he should say something, anything, but he continues to keep his mouth closed when he can’t find a word to begin with.

“I want to be able to do that with you.” Brendon continues with a murmur, untangling their fingers to trace feather-light touches over Patrick’s face, Patrick closing his eyes briefly at the first touch. “Stay by your side, even when you’re having bad days. I know you’re strong, Patrick, but it’s okay to let your guard down.”

Brendon rests his palm on his jaw, thumb caressing his cheekbone. Even though his voice is quiet, just above a whisper, but Patrick can hear the sincerity and the solace behind those words, and the wall that has been separating Brendon and the dark part of his mind for the better part of their years together is slowly beginning to crack.

“You’ve been strong enough for both of us in these past ten years. I wish you’d let me do the same.”

The look that Brendon’s giving him is almost like he’s pleading, and it crushes him to the core. They’ve been together with each other for so long. They’ve come this far. They’ve gone through Panic’s divorce and Fall Out Boy’s hiatus together, still standing strong despite what happened. Brendon opened up to him in the process, dropping all his guard down, letting him see him at his lowest.

Patrick knows he didn’t do the same thing himself. He’d had two chances--the band’s hiatus and after the confession that he posted during Soul Punk--to return the favor. To strip off his last layer of self-protection. To show Brendon that he trusts him fully.

But he didn’t. Instead, he built the wall up even thicker, gluing on a mask of fake optimism and confidence that has ultimately become a part of him after wearing it all these years.

Brendon trusts him enough to show every side of him, while he’s still struggling to do the same thing.

He grits his teeth to stifle down his sobs so Brendon won’t know that he’s crying, but his whole body is shaking and his eyes are watering, and in less than a second, Brendon is holding him, stroking his hair and hushing him gently.

He knows he’s being unfair to Brendon, and that’s why it breaks his heart, shatters his soul, knowing that every minute of every day, Brendon gives his hundred percent into their relationship whereas he only gives around three quarters of it.

He lifts his hand up to his face to wipe away the tears, but Brendon takes his hand in his, giving a small kiss to his knuckles. “If you feel like breaking, I’ll hold you.”

His body tenses, both at his action and words, and he looks up at Brendon through his tears. He can’t see the expression on Brendon’s face, but the next thing he knows, Brendon is whispering again. “If you’re drowning, I’ll dive in and carry you back to the land.”

Brendon’s lips graze over the tip of his nose before it flutters upward, kissing both his eyelids. “If you’re lost, I’ll take you home.”

“And if your head gets too loud, I’ll keep talking until it’s quiet again.” He presses one last kiss to the top of his head, and that’s all it takes for Patrick to break out into another bout of silent sobs. “I’ll do my best, whatever and whenever you ask me to, if you’ll allow me to take care of you.”

Brendon’s voice is full of promise that he’s tempted to take the offer. _All his offers._

And he knows this is it. He’s given another opportunity to redeem himself. To make sure Brendon knows that he’s committed in this relationship just as much as he does.

He curls into himself and tucks his head under Brendon’s chin, nodding. _Yes. Please._

Brendon kisses his head again, gentle and tender, and even though he has done it countless times before, this feels more intimate than the others. “What do you need me to do?”

His fingers twist in Brendon’s shirt, as if he’ll drown in the deep sea of his turbulent thoughts if he let go, and he parts his lips, breathing coming out shaky with suppressed sobs. “Everything.”

Brendon pulls their bodies together, chest-to-chest and toe-to-toe, all his senses being absolutely overwhelmed by Brendon’s scent and Brendon’s voice and Brendon’s touch and Brendon’s warmth and Brendon’s presence and Brendon’s _everything._

There’s an unspoken _we’ll talk about this in the morning_ hanging in the air, but he’s fine with it. He knows they have to talk sooner or later--they’re ten years overdue--but just not _now._ Not when his throat is tightening, pushing sobs and hiccups instead of words out of his mouth. Not when his eyes are so full of tears, making everything blurry and giving him a headache.

Somewhere between the second and the third song Brendon’s softly crooning, he manages to fall into a dreamless state of sleep, Brendon’s warm and soothing voice pushing the dark thoughts back into where they belong and taking up every empty crevice of his mind.


End file.
